


the best laid plans

by vodkaaunt



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Minor Character Hospitalized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:52:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkaaunt/pseuds/vodkaaunt
Summary: Prompt:Characters/Pairings: Swoops/KentPrompt Details: swoops about to tell kent how he feels, but then kent explains his history with jack and how it messed him up and how much he hates himself, so swoops decides to suffer with his feelings in silence while proving to kent that he is worth lovingAdditional Info: would be great if the other aces players were brought in, swoops&kit friendship would be even better, possible drunk confessionsSquicks: non-con, genderbentMaximum Rating: E





	the best laid plans

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [SalazarTipton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/pseuds/SalazarTipton) in the [OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/OMGCP_Heartbreak_Fest_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Characters/Pairings: Swoops/Kent  
> Prompt Details: swoops about to tell kent how he feels, but then kent explains his history with jack and how it messed him up and how much he hates himself, so swoops decides to suffer with his feelings in silence while proving to kent that he is worth loving  
> Additional Info: would be great if the other aces players were brought in, swoops&kit friendship would be even better, possible drunk confessions  
> Squicks: non-con, genderbent  
> Maximum Rating: E

 

 _The Problem_  

Jeff "Swoops" Troy was not known as the self-destructive one in his relationship with his best friend. Generally, Kent Parson was the one almost getting into barfights until Jeff dragged him out, talking Jeff into doing another shot against his better judgment, and dancing on bars and showing up on TMZ the next day. Jeff was considered to be a pretty reasonable, dependable, even-keeled guy. But every minute with Kent was also spent fighting a dangerously self-destructive impulse. 

Whenever he spent time with Kent he had a nearly irresistible urge to kiss him senseless. 

This was a bad idea for a number of ideas, he reminded himself sitting on Kent's couch, drinking his fourth beer. The beer was weakening his impulse control, so he fell back on his usual strategy of listing all the reasons this was a terrible, no good, overall bad idea. 

  1. Kent was his teammate, and his captain. That was basically like hitting on his boss.
  2. Kent looked like a fucking male model. There was actually a rumor he had turned down a job modeling for Abercrombie to join the Q. Jeff wasn’t bad looking, but he was nothing special, and he constantly needed a haircut.
  3. Kent was friends with, like Britney Spears. They’d hung out when she was doing her Vegas shows. It blew up on Instagram. And somebody who hung out with Britney wouldn’t date a …what was it in that song Kent was always singing? A scrub? Jeff didn’t really know what a scrub was, but he was pretty sure he was one.
  4. Jeff wasn’t exactly leading the pride parade, but Kent was so far in the closet Jeff was pretty sure any kind of relationship was out of the question.



Those were the big reasons. Jeff found new reasons to bury his feelings every day. But he was also fairly sure if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to lose his mind. Worst case scenario, he told himself, things got awkward between him. He knew Kent well enough to know he would try to at least be polite. And, he reasoned, a little awkwardness couldn’t be worse than the particular agony of sitting a few feet away from Kent, wanting so badly to touch him and trying to hide it.

Like tonight, colors from the TV flickering over his face, as he tells some story from his days in the Q, laughing as he describes his old teammates’ antics, sipping rosé. Even as Kent laughed along, only part of his attention was on what Kent was saying. The other part was on how beautiful he looked like this, how happy and relaxed in a way Jeff never got to see him outside of this room. He was overwhelmed by how happy he is to just be sitting like this, to get to see this side of Kent, both of them a little drunk and silly, but also by how badly he wanted more .

“It’s nice to hear you talk like this man,” Jeff’s words startled him out of his own reverie. It appeared his tongue was running away with him. “I didn’t think you had any good memories of the Q. 

"Kent stiffened slightly, and Jeff kicked himself. He hadn’t intended to steer the conversation towards bad memories or hockey.

“I…” Kent stared down into his glass. “I do. I had some good times.” He smiled wryly. “Some really good times, actually.”

 Jeff just waited. This might not have been what he intended, but he could tell there was something important about this moment. Kent was biting his lip like he was weighing his next words carefully, trying to decide how much to say.

“You know Zimms and I…” Kent wasn’t looking at Jeff. He hadn’t raised his eyes from his wine glass. The flashing lights of the TV felt strangely inappropriate now, but Jeff didn’t reach for the remote. He was afraid if he moved too suddenly, he might startle Kent out of saying whatever he clearly needed to get off his chest. “We were… we were a team. On the ice we were fucking _magic_ , man. Like we could read each other’s thoughts. We were _so_ in sync.” Kent swallowed hard. “And I thought… well. I thought it was the same off the ice, right? I thought we were on the same page.” He swallowed hard.

“Kent.” Jeff can’t stop the single word breaking quietly from his throat. He wasn’t sure what else he was going to say, but Kent cut him off with a jerky shake of his head, still not looking at him.

“I thought… I thought we were having fun. I was having fun. And he said he was too. But _obviously_ that wasn’t the case.” He laughed humorlessly. “When he OD’d… I knew about the pills. I knew about the drinking. But I thought he was _fine_! We would go out, we’d have fun, we’d come back…” Kent’s jaw clenched. “And then we’d get up, and he’d take his pills… I thought that was how it _worked_! We were winning, we were supposed to go out and party, and he told me about the anxiety, he was supposed to take his meds! But he was in trouble, and I couldn’t see it, because I was too busy having fun. I was too busy doing what I wanted. And I thought he wanted it too, but then I found him on the bathroom floor, and—” Kent choked on a stifled sob. “—and he got hurt because _I wasn’t taking care of him_.”

“Hey,” Jeff slid across the couch to Kent’s side. His hand hovered awkwardly for a moment over Kent’s knee, his hand, before settling on a shoulder. “You were just kids, ok? You didn’t do anything wrong. People hide all kinds of shit from their friends.” He felt twinge of guilt, thinking about the feelings he was hiding from Kent, before banishing the thought from his mind.

Kent was shaking his head. “No, you don’t get it. We weren’t just friends, he was my—we were—we—”

“Oh,” Jeff said softly. He’d known Kent was gay (thank you that one drunk roadie) but he’d always thought the rumors about him and Zimmermann were borne of jealousy and, frankly, the fact that they were two of the best-looking people in hockey.

“Yeah.” Kent said quietly. “I loved him. I would have done anything for him. And I could’ve, I should’ve done something for him, but… I guess that’s the irony, huh?”

Jeff slid his hand down to Kent’s back, rubbing soothing circles over the tense muscles. He didn’t really know what to say, but he had to say something. “There was nothing you could have done.”

 “I should’ve told somebody! I should’ve talked to him! I should’ve told him to cool it, I shouldn’t’ve taken him out, I should’ve made him stay in instead of going out and getting wasted, I should’ve told Bad Bob—” he swiped viciously at his nose. “God, he used to tell me to look out for him. Like he could trust me. Used to tell me he was glad Zimms had someone looking out for him.” He laughed humorlessly, but alcohol and tears turned into a hiccup. “I let both of them down, I guess.” He said quietly.

“I’m sure they don’t think that.” Jeff said.

Kent snorted. “Well Zimms sure hates me for something. I visited him after the playoffs last year and he was… not happy to see me.” Kent downed the rest of his glass, but kept turning it idly in his hands. Jeff waited. Kent sighed. “He basically told me to fuck off." 

“What?” Jeff almost shouted. In a normal voice, he continued. “Why would he do that?”

“Kent shifted uncomfortably. “I kinda acted like a dick, honestly. I just wanted to talk, but he got pissed, told me to leave—” Kent rubbed his face, and his next words came out muffled. “—and I kissed him and he pushed me away—”

“ _What_?” Jeff yelped, then slapped a hand over his mouth. That at least made Kent laugh, for real this time, and meet Jeff’s eyes at last. His laugh had bled some of the tension out of the moment.

“I mean, I can’t blame him.” Kent said. “Like I said, I was a dick. I texted him later and… he made it pretty clear he had never felt the same way about me. So, can’t really blame him for freaking when I showed up. But I just wanted to see him so bad, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, and I just…” He blew out a sigh. “Guess I’m just a reminder of shittier times to him.”

“Wait, he said that?” Jeff asked, frowning. He could remember the Zimmermann-Parson team in their heyday. Even if Jack hadn’t loved Kent back (he swallowed a lump in his throat), he had clearly cared about him.

Kent shrugged. “Not exactly, but he didn’t have to. I got it.” He wasn’t looking at Jeff again. “I guess he figured out back then that I wasn’t gonna be there for him when it counted. That I wasn’t worth it.”

Jeff reached over and took Kent’s glass out of his hands and set it down on the coffee table. He reached out to cup Kent’s cheek and turned his face towards him. “Listen to me, Kent Parson,” he said firmly. “Shut the fuck up about my best friend.” Kent snorted. “I’m serious. None of this ‘I’m not worth it’ bullshit. It’s bullshit. And if Zimmermann believes it, he’s an idiot.” Kent’s eyes were huge, locked on Jeff’s. Jeff felt his heart start pounding ( _his face is so close he has so many freckles his skin is so soft_ ) but sternly ignored it. Kent swallowed hard. They were _so close_.

 And then Jeff felt a stabbing pain in his leg.

“ _Agghhh_ , fuck, _Kit_ ” he howled, spinning around and looking down at the innocent eyes of the animal mauling his calf muscle. “Dude, if you wanted cuddles, just say so.” Kit yowled, but when Jeff reached down to pick her up she spun deftly and waltzed away. 

Kent chuckled. “She’ll warm up to you someday, man.”

 Jeff rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure, that’ll happen. I think you’re secretly poisoning me against her.”

“Now why would I do that?” Kent asked. His tone was innocent, but accompanied by a wicked grin that made Jeff’s stomach drop.

“Um, because you’re worried she’ll love me better than you?” he teased. “Or because you think it’s funny.” Kent laughed and threw a pillow at his head. 

 

When he headed out to grab his Lyft ride home, Jeff couldn’t stop thinking about the way Kent had looked at him when he had told him was worth it, not that that was even real praise, hardly. But Kent had looked at him like... like he couldn’t quite believe it was true. That thought accompanied him home, sitting in the back of his mind like a toothache he couldn’t quite forget.

Kent was the best person he knew (except maybe his mom). He was smart, and kind. He had a way of helping people without letting them realize what he was doing. Hell, half the time he got rookies to run extra drills by letting them think _he_ needed the practice. They walked away feeling like big shots for helping the captain instead of worrying that the captain had noticed their performance and felt like he had to step in, and it wasn’t until years later sometimes they realized how much they’d learned “helping” Kent. He had a wicked sense of humor, he could put anyone at ease, and watching him with that cat was enough to melt anyone’s heart. As Jeff changed for bed, he wondered how anyone could think Kent wasn’t “worth it,” or wasn’t good enough for Jack Zimmermann.

Jack Zimmermann. Jeff shook his head. Any hope he had of Kent ever feeling the same about him had been extinguished when he saw Kent’s face while he talked about Jack. He clearly still had feelings for Jack. And even if he didn’t, if that was the kind of guy he was into, Jeff didn’t stand a chance.

But Kent was still his friend. And if he wouldn’t believe it when Jeff told him he was worthy of all the love in the world, well. Jeff would just have to show him.

 

_The Plan_

How do you make someone believe they’re worth caring about? Jeff thought about that all weekend. It preoccupied him so badly that his mom actually remarked on it when he called her on Sunday.

“Jeff? Sweetie, have you even heard a word I’ve said?”

Jeff started. “Yeah, um, definitely, Gram is uh…” he trailed off into silence.

His mom just laughed. “Good save. What’s on your mind? I know you love your mother too much to just ignore her.” Her teasing tone also had a note of concern. 

Jeff sighed. He’d never been able to hide much from his mom. Or his dad. Or anyone, really, he had a terrible poker face. It was a wonder Kent hadn’t figured out about his feelings before now. “I’m worried about my friend,” he admitted.

“Hm. Is it Kent?”

“Why would you assume it’s Kent?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Jeff realized how defensive they sounded.

“Oh, honey,” his mom laughed. “who else would it be? Aside from your… close friendship….”

Jeff buried his face in his hands. “Moooooom,” he groaned. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

She cackled. “Alright then, setting aside your _obvious crush_ , from what you’ve told me Kent seems like he needs a friend.” Her voice softened. “I’m glad he has someone like you to worry about him.”

Jeff was struck with the similarity between what she’d said and what Kent had said about Bad Bob the other night. He wasn’t surprised, though, his mom had met Kent the last time she’d visited, and had immediately liked him.

“He…” Jeff searched for the words to explain himself. “He’s going through a hard time. He’s really down on himself, and I don’t know how to show him I’m there for him. I don’t want him to feel like he’s alone, or like he doesn’t deserve to be taken care of.” That wasn’t the whole story, but it was close enough.

“Oh, honey,” his mom’s voice was filled with sympathy. “that’s a tough thing to do. But I’m sure you can find a way.”

“But how?” Jeff nearly whined. “How do you show someone something like that?”

“Well,” his mom said. “I guess this is a case of letting your actions speak.” Jeff rolled his eyes. _Obviously_. “So just… think about how you can take care of him, if he’s not taking care of himself. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said slowly. “I think it does.” Kent was constantly looking out for other people before himself. Maybe Jeff could be that person for Kent, look out for him when he was busy looking out for everyone else. “Thanks mom.”

“Of course, sweetie. Now, like I was saying about your grandmother…”

 

_Phase 1: Random Acts of Kindness_

Jeff’s plan started simple. On Tuesday when they hung out after practice, Jeff picked up some milk with the six pack, since “I noticed you were running low, man.” Kent looked confused, but didn’t say anything, just put the milk in the fridge.

 

On Thursday, when they had a photo op, Jeff showed up with a coffee for himself and one for Kent since “I know you’re not exactly a morning person. 

Kent took a sip, and looked up in surprise. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Chile mocha latte? Which only you like? Yeah it is.” Jeff shoved Kent’s shoulder playfully, and he didn’t miss the pleased smile Kent tried to hide behind his cup as he muttered “ _Shut up_.” 

 

On Saturday, Jeff let Kent choose what they got on their pizza, even though they were at his apartment.

“You’re serious.” Kent said flatly. “Last time I tried to order anchovies you said, and I quote ‘if I eat a piece of pizza that has even one goddamn tiny stinky fish on it I will die’.”

Jeff shrugged. “So make sure your food goes in your mouth and not on the floor.” When Kent just stared at him, he sighed. “You only like the anchovy pizza from DiFazio’s, and they don’t deliver to your place. I will eat _very carefully_ from my pepperoni half.”

Kent teased him the whole time they ate about how good his anchovies were and kept shouting “look out, it’s an anchovy!” every time Jeff was about to take a bite of pizza, but he had a huge smile on his face the whole time. It was even worth the time Jeff did actually eat a small piece of anchovy, and had to run to the kitchen to spit it out, to see how hard Kent laughed. Tears were actually streaming down his face as he rolled around on the couch. Kent had never seen anything more beautiful.

When he went to bed that night, Jeff decided he could call the first phase of his plan a success. Kent seemed to be in a slightly better mood than usual, seemed to be smiling a little more. It was time to take it to the next level.

 

_Phase 2: Compliments_

The next phase was a little trickier, Jeff admitted to himself. He wanted to be believable and natural, but also serious. How, he asked himself, was a guy supposed to do that with his captain and best friend? After struggling for two days to come up with a plan, he decided to just play it by ear and wait for the opportunity to arise naturally.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. That week, they had a hard-fought win against the Schooners. Kent didn’t score, but he played a solid game. He came back from a pretty hard check—no injuries, but enough to rattle his head pretty good—to have a few assists. The locker room was fairly subdued after the game. Everyone was happy, but pretty worn out. As everyone began to filter out, Jeff clapped Kent on the shoulder “Good game, man.”

Kent looked at him a little strangely. “Thanks,” he said. “You too. Briggsy kicked ass tonight.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, he definitely did. But so did you, you played a really good game. You set him up for that last goal really well. And he never would have made it if you hadn’t spent so much time with him last season working on that slapshot.”

Kent’s eyes widened in surprise, and he stuttered out a thanks. He looked pensive all the way back to the hotel. When they were getting ready to go to bed (they had both declined going out, as had most of the team, in favor of an early night), he brought it up again.

“Hey,” Kent said, as Jeff was brushing his teeth. Jeff glanced out to where Kent was sitting on the end of his bed.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Um, thanks. For what you said earlier.” Kent coughed, shifting awkwardly. “That… means a lot.”

Jeff spit out his toothpaste and ambled out of the bathroom. “Hey, I see how hard you work, dude. You take being our captain seriously. And we’re a much better team for it. On and off the ice.” He smiled at Kent, whose face was flushed. 

Kent nodded shortly. “Yeah, uh, I try. Thanks.” He was fidgeting restlessly with the bedspread. 

“Thank you.” Jeff said seriously. This had gone beyond his plan to raise Kent’s self-esteem. It was suddenly very important that Kent knew what he meant to the Aces. He stared at Kent until he met his eyes. They stayed in silence for a moment until Kent broke it by getting up suddenly.

 “Yeah, uh, well, I better get ready for bed,” he said in a slightly hoarse voice, and headed past Jeff into the bathroom. When he came back out, they didn’t say anything else, just went to bed, but Jeff felt satisfied.

 The rest of that week, he sometimes caught Kent’s eye at practice and got a small smile in return. Kent was as dedicated as ever, but Jeff noticed that he seemed to enjoy himself a little more than usual as well. He joked around with all the guys, and helped practices run as smoothly as ever, but one morning practice he somehow managed to start an impromptu game of tag on the ice after drills were over, that evolved from him and Spinarty messing around, to involve the entire team, and ended with Ketch and Colzie landing in a tangled mess with a goalie net overturned on top of them, and everyone howling with laughter.

Dino mentioned it to Jeff later. “Hey,” he said in a low voice, nudging Jeff’s shoulder with his own as they packed their gear back into their lockers. “What’s with Parse?”

“What do you mean?” Jeff asked innocently. Dino was one of the older members of the Aces, the one who had taken Jeff under his wing when he’d been a rookie. The last thing he wanted was Dino figuring out his plan and misinterpreting it as flirting or something of that nature.

“He’s been in a great mood all week.” Dino said thoughtfully. “It’s nice is, all.” He paused thoughtfully. “I wonder if he met somebody.”

Jeff’s stomach dropped. He didn’t like thinking about that possibility. But, he acknowledged, part of the reason he was doing this was so that somebody Kent would feel like he deserved to be happy with Jack, or someone else. “If he has, he hasn’t mentioned it to me.” Jeff said lightly. “You know he doesn’t kiss and tell.” Kent’s love life was notoriously secret, but not for the reason most of the Aces thought.

Dino snorted a laugh. “Yeah, no doubt. Well whatever the reason, it’s nice. Makes practice more fun, anyway.”

 

Kent’s good mood extended to the weekend, when he spontaneously sent out a message to the Aces group chat about going out for a drink that night. He did this sometimes, when they had something to celebrate, or when he thought they needed to blow off steam or spend some time having fun as a team. In addition to being their captain, he was almost universally well-like by all their teammates, so nearly everyone who didn’t have plans agreed. Most of the veterans like Dino begged off, since they had families, and they teased the younger players about being single and able to go out at the drop of a hat.  Scrolling through the messages. Jeff smiled. So much of that camaraderie was due to Kent. He’d meant what’d said to Kent about him making them a better team on and off the ice. He was the glue that held their team together in a lot of ways.

Jeff’s wave of affection for Kent gave way to a slightly melancholy feeling, though. Kent was such a natural people person, so effortlessly charismatic. He could make almost anyone like him, and he was so fun to be around. It made it that much sadder to Jeff that he didn’t seem to see that, that not only could he not appreciate what everyone else saw in him, but he didn’t seem to realize they saw him that way. If anything, it just strengthened his resolve to make sure Kent knew how much he was appreciated by the people around him.  

 

Kent’s apartment was on Jeff’s way to the bar they were headed to, and it was assumed at this point in their friendship that Jeff would swing by so they could walk over together. Jeff didn’t bother knocking anymore, just swung the door open. Kent was in his kitchen, messing with his phone. He looked up when Jeff walked in and nodded in greeting. Kit hissed from her perch in Kent’s lap.

“I can’t tell if that’s an improvement or not,” Jeff said sadly. Kent laughed and scratched behind her ears.

“Well, she doesn’t have her claws embedded in your leg, so I’d say yes.”

“Fair point,” Jeff said. “I brought sustenance for later.” He hefted the box of protein bars and the six pack of Gatorade he’d grabbed on the way over. “In case you were out.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kent said in surprise. 

“C’mon, man, you know there’s like a 50% chance I’m gonna end up crashing on your couch tonight. And I know you suck at getting your own groceries.” Kent conceded with a nod. “Should we get going?”

“Yeah,” Kent agreed. He slid off his kitchen stool, Kit cradled in his arms. He held her p in front of his face. “Ok, baby, I’m going out but I’ll be back soon. I love you.” Kit yowled in  his face. “No, it doesn’t mean I love Swoops more than you.” Jeff rolled his eyes. “Don’t wait up, ok kitty? I love you. Make good choices.” He kissed her nose, then set her down on the floor, where she turned and shot Jeff an evil look.

“Man, why does she hate me so much?” Jeff asked as they made their way outside.

“Don’t take it personally, she hates everyone.” Kent said, bumping his shoulder against Jeff’s. 

“Not you,” Jeff pointed out.

“Yes, but I’m special,” Kent said airily, then shot Jeff a big grin.

“Yeah, you are,” Jeff agreed, aware that his own face was probably sporting a much dopier grin. “Hey, you look nice tonight, man.” He winced internally. Was that phrasing a subtle no homo? Well, it wasn’t like he was trying to hit on Kent. “That’s a nice shirt,” he continued, feeling slightly desperate. They almost never complimented each other like this, but Jeff knew how careful Kent was about his appearance. Even if he made it look effortless, he put effort into looking good.

Kent looked taken aback. “Thanks,” he said slowly, looking at Jeff with an unreadable expression.

“So, did you catch that Clippers game last night?” Jeff asked somewhat wildly, desperate to change the subject. Kent let him do it, and by the time they got to the bar, Jeff felt like they had managed to put the weird moment behind him.

 

Going out with Kent was always a good time, but it could sometime pose a unique challenge for Jeff. After a few drinks, if the bar had a dance floor, Kent usually couldn’t be kept off it. Tonight was no different.

A song Jeff dimly recognized from prior nights out came pumping over the stereo, and, as expected, Kent shouted something about this being his jam, grabbed the hand of whoever was next to him, and hauled them out onto the dance floor. Jeff couldn’t help but laugh at his exuberance, and a few more of the Aces jumped up to join them. Jeff remained parked at the bar, not being much of a dancer himself. Unfortunately, that meant he had an unobstructed view of Kent on the dance floor. He couldn’t help watching out of the corner of his eye as he talked to his remaining teammates. Kent danced with complete abandon, jumping and twisting around in a way that would have been ridiculous if not for the athleticism and rhythm he possessed. He might not necessarily be graceful, but he was definitely beautiful. The grin that kept breaking out across his face just added to the picture.

 

As the night progressed, Kent kept dancing, and they all kept drinking. Kent in particular, full of energy and high spirits, made numerous trips back to the bar to do more shots and rope more participants into his dance party. Jeff kept watching as his numbers dwindled, resisting all attempts to get him out onto the dance floor. Eventually he only had two allies remaining, and he was feeling pleasantly drunk, as were most of the Aces, Kent among them. Jeff had also gotten a lot less careful about watching Kent. 

As Jeff watched, the song switched to something less bouncy and more sensual, and Jeff swallowed hard as Kent’s movements changed as well. Kent’s hips moved in a way that left Jeff’s mouth dry. He was no longer looking out of the corner of his eye, he realized with a start. He was out and out staring. With a jolt, he turned back to Mouse and Raybaby. They didn’t appear to have notice, being deeply embroiled in a conversation about the relative merits of Budweiser and Molson. He looked back out at the dancefloor, and his eyes caught Kent’s. he couldn’t look away, and he watched Kent’s mouth twist into a smirk. As he watched, Kent’s hips rolled in a way that could only be described as filthy. Jeff licked his lips. He knew they were too far apart for him to really see it, but he imagined Kent tracking the movement with his eyes. Quickly, he tore his gaze from Kent and turned back to the table. As the debate over the beers of his friends’ native lands raged on, Jeff silently replayed the image of Kent’s body twisting, his eyes on Jeff.

A hand settled on his back and he nearly jumped off his barstool. “You’re not really gonna leave me out there all by myself, are you?” Kent yelled in his ear over the music.

“By yourself? You have half the team out there with you.” Jeff said, his voice perhaps a bit higher than usual.

Kent chuckled. “Yeah but I still want you.” His fingers shifted slightly on Jeff’s back, just brushing the nape of his neck and sending shivers down his spine. 

There was no way he meant that the way it sounded. Jeff turned to look at him. Kent’s face was flushed with alcohol and exertion. He was swaying just a little bit, and Jeff couldn’t tell if it was to the music or because of the shots.

Every instinct in Jeff’s body was screaming that this was a terrible idea, but he found himself sliding off the stool and saying “Alright.” Kent grinned, and slid his hand down Jeff’s arm to grasp his wrist and pull him along, never taking his eyes off Jeff’s.

Kent stopped moving abruptly, and Jeff bumped into him. He hesitated a moment before stumbling back a step, letting his body linger up against Kent’s. He could’ve sworn he saw Kent smirk, but it quickly disappeared, and his teasing grin reappeared. He leaned in close to yell “You finally gonna show me those moves, Troy?”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “I told you,” he yelled back, “I have no moves.”

Kent laughed. “I guess you’re just gonna have to follow my lead then.” His grip on Jeff’s wrist tightened, and he tugged it onto his hip, throwing his other arm around Jeff’s neck. Jeff tried not to let his nervousness show, but it wasn’t easy as Kent took hold of his hip and started to move him in a much more rhythmic way than Jeff had ever moved on a dance floor.

Jeff tried to focus on anything other than Kent’s face, gaze flitting from the dance floor where various other Aces were dancing with each other or strangers, to the shell of Kent’s ear, to his cowlick right at Jeff’s eye level. Kent didn’t seem to be nervous at all, just moving his body gently but firmly. Jeff tried to relax and just let his body move, but it was hard when something about Kent kept catching his attention every second, like how good he smelled. Or their chests would brush for just a second and send Jeff’s heart rocketing into his throat. 

They were so close that surely if anyone looked over at them they would notice, but so much further apart than Jeff wanted to be. He wanted to lean right into Kent’s space, press as close as he could against him, lean down the few inches difference in their height and capture his mouth, wrap his arms around him and bury his fingers in his hair. He wanted to explore every inch of Kent’s neck with kisses, wanted to pull their hips together and grind against him, feel him gasping and moaning while his fingers clutched at Jeff’s back, until neither of them could stand it anymore. He felt like he was overflowing with want, like it must be pouring off him in waves, like Kent must surely be able to feel it this close. He pulled back a fraction until he could finally look Kent in the eye, opened his mouth to say—something, anything, he wasn’t sure what—

And then for the second time that night, out of nowhere someone clapped him on the back, startling him into breaking apart from Kent. Briggsy was standing behind them looking weary. “Spinarty just fell over and nearly took out a speaker. I’m gonna take him home before breaks something or pukes on somebody.

“Good call,” Jeff said. “We should probably head out too, it’s getting late.” He turned to look at Kent, who looked as if he wanted to protest, then sighed and nodded.

Briggsy rolled his eyes. “You’re so _old_.”

“Ah, to be 18 again,” Kent remarked philosophically as they headed out the door.

“What part are you missing, thinking 27 is old, or the fact that his hangover is gonna be way easier than ours tomorrow?” Jeff asked.

“Both,” Kent said, laughing. Their walk home was silent, but Jeff barely noticed. He was suddenly very tired now that he was out of the bar and headed home, and he was focused on staying upright and trying not to relive his moments on the dancefloor with Kent. He bid Kent goodnight as they reached his building, but couldn’t stifle a giant yawn as he did so.

Kent shook his head. “Dude, just crash on my couch.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jeff sighed. “I don’t think I can make it home without falling asleep.” Kent laughed as they headed inside.

Their night out aftermath was pretty well ingrained at this point. Kent automatically grabbed himself a Gatorade and tossed Jeff one.

“Briggsy’s really taking after you, huh?” Jeff asked, taking a swig of Gatorade.

“What do you mean?” Kent asked.

“Taking care of Spinarty tonight? That game against Seattle? I don’t know if we could’ve rallied if he hadn’t made that shot, totally got everyone pumped up again. He’s turning into a leader. A real mini-Kent Parson.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “He’s like six inches taller than me." 

“So not my point, don’t deflect. You’re totally grooming him to replace you as captain, aren’t you?”

“What? That is… so not true” Kent said, in a completely unconvincing voice. Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Ok, maybe I am. Don’t fucking tell him. He’d freak, he gets way too inside his own head if he starts to put pressure on himself.”

“I’m not gonna tell him,” Jeff said. “You should probably tell him eventually though.”

“Oh I will,” Kent agreed. “Another season or two under his belt and his confidence’ll be that much better. This is only his second season.”

“And he’s already adopted his own rookie. How fast they grow up,” Jeff teased. “Next thing you know he’ll be stealing all your puck bunnies.”

“He has enough of his own,” Kent said. “Did you see the cheering section at the last game? I saw a ‘marry me, Spinarty’ sign.” 

“Aw, are you jealous?” Jeff asked, poking Kent’s shoulder. 

“Not at all.” Kent said firmly, looking right at Jeff. Jeff wasn’t sure why, but something in his gaze seemed too serious for the teasing conversation they’d been having. He froze for a second, unsure how to respond.

Kit rescued him from having to figure it out, mewing plaintively at Kent and breaking the silence. “Aw baby,” he cooed, leaning down to pick her up. “did you miss me? I missed you.” He made kissy noises, and Jeff couldn’t help laughing at him.

 

Later as he settled in on Kent’s couch, his mind returned to the way Kent had looked at him. Was he talking about being in the closet? Not likely. If anything, Kent was more likely than Jeff to make fun of himself for the attention he sometimes attracted. So what had he meant by…

Zimmermann. The thought settled like a cold weight in Jeff’s stomach. That must be what he meant. They hadn’t talked about it again, but Kent must have been referring to his near-admission that he was still in love with Jack. Jeff punched his pillow, shifting restlessly. As hard as it was to hear that Kent was still hung up on Zimmermann, Jeff was his friend. If Kent needed to talk it through, he would have to be there for him. Even, he thought darkly, if Zimmermann didn’t come close to appreciating or deserving Kent. Had he been sober, he might have reasoned that there were two sides to every story, and teenagers are hardly the best communicators, but as it was, he fell asleep thinking that Kent deserved whatever he wanted, even if what he wanted was dumb and had stupid floppy hair and a jawline like a marble statue.

 

 _Phase 3: What are friends for?_  

The next phase of Jeff’s plan was completely unplanned. About a week after the Aces’ bar outing, Jeff got a panicked call from Kent. The call in and of itself was odd enough—Kent hated talking on the phone, and almost exclusively texted. He couldn’t believe Jeff talked to his parents on the phone at least once a week for an hour or more. “How can you stand being on the phone that long?” he always asked. “How else am I supposed to keep up on all the news from Biwabik?” Jeff always retorted, which made Kent laugh every time.

When Jeff picked up the call, Kent was talking to someone else, and Jeff had to say hello several times before Kent realized he was there. 

“Swoops, hey sorry—yeah it’s Troy,” he said to the person on the other end. Jeff could hear a lot of movement on the other end. It sounded like Kent was leaving a room. “Hey, you still there?” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Jeff said. “What’s up? Are you ok?”

Kent sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. I gotta go home to New York for a few days, though, do you know if my license is still at your house? Can I come grab it?”

“Yes. You know it’s weird that it’s taken you this long to get it back, right?” Jeff asked. “If you didn’t wear such tight jeans to the bar this wouldn’t be a problem.” Kent laughed, but he sounded distracted. “What’s going on? Why are you going home?” Kent usually avoided visiting home at all costs. Jeff had never met his family, even when they played in Buffalo.

“It’s my mom,” Kent said. “She was in a car accident, and she’s in the hospital. I gotta go see her.”

“Yeah, of course you gotta go.” Jeff agreed immediately. “Are you ok? Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?” Any unexpected trip to see his family would be difficult for Kent, but his mom being in the hospital would only complicate it more. Jeff didn’t know much about their relationship, just that they didn’t get along.

“No, I think I’m good,” Kent sighed. “I’m gonna get an Uber from here to the airport. No idea how long I’m gonna be gone yet. I’m gonna ask the weird kid downstairs to watch Kit. He creeps me out, but he doesn’t steal shit.”

“I can watch her,” Jeff blurted out without thinking about it. There was a stunned silence on the other end of the phone. “Kent? You still there?”

“Yeah,” Kent said slowly. “You’d do that?”

“Watch your cat? Yeah man. Anything you need. Is there anything else I can do.”

“No.” For the first time, Kent sounded close to tears. “I just… I gotta go, right? I mean, she’s probably fine, she’s not even in the ICU I don’t think, but—" 

“Kent,” Jeff interjected gently. “You do whatever you need to do. I’ll take care of Kit, and anything else you think of, ok? It’s fine.”

“Thank you,” Kent said. “Seriously, thank you so much, you have no idea—”

“Hey,” Jeff said. “what are friends for?”

Kent was silent for a moment, then he laughed. It was a little wobbly sounding, but it was still a laugh. “Yeah I guess so,” he said.

 

A few hours later, Jeff was almost starting to regret offering this. The list of instructions Kent kept taped to the inside of a cupboard were… intense. “You seriously need a treat promptly at 8 every night?” he asked the cat sitting at his fate, staring balefully up at him. “And you don’t drink tap water? Jesus, you are one high maintenance cat.” Kit meowed angrily, looking for all the world as if she blamed him for not being Kent.

“Alright. Alright. You and me, Kit. We got this. Totally doable. Kent’s counting on us.” Kit kept glaring at him. “And I’m giving you one of his pep talks. Ok then. Time to” he checked the list “brush you for at least five minutes, seriously? Well, here goes.”

The next night Kent called again. Jeff had essentially moved into Kent’s apartment. Kit’s schedule was rigorous. He answered as he was shampooing her (once a week on Wednesday nights). “Is that splashing?” Kent asked.

“Yeah man, it’s bath night,” Jeff said, juggling his phone and the bottle of shampoo. 

“You’re giving her a _bath_?” Kent asked.

Well yeah,” Jeff said. “It was on the list.”

“Yeah, but you’re actually doing it? No one follows the list that closely.”

“You do,” Jeff pointed out. 

“Wow. And she hasn’t exsanguinated you yet?”

“Nerd. No, we’re getting along pretty good. Two nights of prompt treats was all our relationship needed, apparently. Right Kit?” As if on cue, Kit yowled at him again. “Yeah, yeah, you’re just showing off for Kent. You can pretend but I know you love me now. So how’s your mom?” 

“She’s ok,” Kent answered, sounding weary. “Cranky, but. That’s normal for her. She hates being cooped up. But she should be out tomorrow morning. I think I’m gonna stay one more day and then fly home.” For all his tiredness, his voice sounded more fond and less tense than it usually did when he talked about his mom.

“Take as long as you need.” Jeff said, scooping Kit out of the bath and wrapping her up in a towel.

Kent snorted. “Yeah, tell that to our bosses.” 

“I will if you need me to.” Jeff answered seriously. 

“Nah, it’s ok. Mel’s here, she can handle it.” Mel was Kent’s older sister. They didn’t talk much, but their relationship was much less strained than his and his mother’s.

“So how’s it going out there?” Jeff asked

“Good,” Kent said. “I’m glad I came. It’s been better than I expected. Turns out if you’re trapped in a hospital room with somebody all day you kinda have to get along so. Yeah. I’ll be glad to be home though.”

“Ok well we’ll be here waiting, won’t we Kit?” Kit purred as Jeff toweled her off. “Oh my god did you hear that? You cat loves me more than you! I was right this whole time!”

 

When Kent got home, it was the middle of the night and Jeff was asleep on his sofa. The sound of the door opening jerked him awake, and in his confusion at the strange surroundings and the sudden noise, he fell off the couch. When he untangled himself from his blankets and stood up, Kent was laughing hysterically at him as he cradled Kit, who was rubbing herself against him and purring obscenely. “Traitor,” Jeff muttered, shuffling towards them. “Hey welcome back, man,” he said. Kent let Kit down where she wound around his ankles, and into Jeff’s open arms for a hug.

Jeff was too tired to try to keep the hug on the bro-ier side, so he gave in to his sleepy urge to pull Kent in tight and nuzzle into the space between his neck and shoulder. Kent clung on tightly, and Jeff could feel how tight his muscles were from tension and sleeping in weird places. As they held onto each other, he felt some of that tightness start to bleed out of Kent, until he was nearly limp in Jeff’s arms. “I missed you man,” he muttered, half asleep.

“I missed you too,” Kent said softly. Jeff felt him take a deep breath, then he pulled away. Jeff barely had time to mourn the closeness before Kent was leaning up and pressing his lips against Jeff’s. 

Jeff was just tired enough that he reacted completely on instinct, pulling Kent closer again, one hand sliding up to cradle his cheek and the other settling in the small of his back. Kent made a small sound, and his hands fisted in the back of Jeff’s worn t shirt. His tongue gently traced Jeff’s lower lip, sending a shock of want into Jeff’s lower belly, and startling him into total wakefulness. He jerked back, chest heaving. Kent stared at him, looking lost. Jeff’s mind was swirling with shock and confusion. “I—I can’t—” he stuttered. “I gotta go.” He barely managed to grab his phone and shove his feet into shoes before taking off. Kent didn’t move, just kept staring at the spot Jeff had been.

The air outside was brisk, keeping Jeff wide awake as he jogged towards home. It was along way on foot, but he needed the time to think. Kent had been emotional and overtired, that was the only reason he had kissed Jeff. It had to be. He was still in love with Zimmermann. He had to be. Unless…

 _Don’t go down that road_ , he told himself sternly. _That way lies heartbreak. He’s in love with Zimmermann. The guy’s a hockey god who looks as much like a model as his mom does_. You don’t go from a guy like that to a dorky small town second-stringer who at best is good-looking in a boy next door way. You just don’t.

Tomorrow he’d apologize for running out. And then he and Kent could put this late night lapse in judgment behind them and go back to normal. Jeff would keep being a good friend to Kent, and Kent would get back together with Zimmermann to form a hockey dynasty, or he’d find somebody else who was cool and sexy and funny, somebody like Kent. Somebody who was more on his level, Jeff thought savagely. And Jeff would keep being a good friend. Just a good friend.

He ignored the way that thought twisted his guts until he got into his own bed and could hide his tears in his pillow.

 

_The Goal_

Jeff was awoken the next morning by a pounding on his door. Each knock felt like a knife in his sore head. Probably his neighbor who kept complaining about his loud music. As he stumbled towards his front door he caught sight of his reflection. Red puffy eyes with dark bags underneath them, hair sticking up wildly. He looked like he’d had a rough night. Which he had, he thought grimly, just not the fun kind.

“Mr. Krochina, I swear, the TV doesn’t get any quieter—” The words stuck in his throat as he swung the door open to reveal a very angry Kent Parson.

“What the actual hell,” Kent said as he pushed past Jeff, “was that last night?”

Jeff just gaped at him, still holding his door wide open. Kent looked as if he’d barely had a better night than Jeff. “Um,” he said. 

“I kiss you,” Kent continued, not waiting for an answer. “and you kiss me back, right? And then you just run out on me? What the _hell_?”

“Um,” Jeff said again, brain barely able to process what was happening. Kent’s cowlick was even more prominent than usual, and his face was white with rage, which made his freckles stand out. It was really unfair, Jeff thought, that he looked this cute when Jeff was trying to do the right thing and not date him like Kent wanted.

Wait, what? That wasn’t the reason, he had a real reason.

“You’ve been flirting with me for weeks,” Kent hissed. “And when I kiss you, that’s when you change your mind? What is your fucking game?”

“I wasn’t flirting with you,” Jeff said, finally remembering to close the door. “I was trying to be a good friend.”

Kent looked like he’d been smacked in the face. “Bullshit,” he sputtered. “We’ve been friends for years and you’ve never brought me groceries, or told me I look good, or _babysat my cat_. Why now?”

“Because you didn’t think you were worth caring about,” Jeff answered before he could stop himself. That was it, Zimmermann! “Besides, you’re in love with somebody else!” 

“ _Who?!_ ” Kent asked incredulously.

“Jack Zimmermann,” Jeff answered, somehow feeling he’d lost the train of the conversation again. When Kent just stared at him he said, “Well aren’t you?” 

Kent shook his head slowly. “Listen to me, you idiot. I’ve been into you since you invited yourself over to my house to watch the Clippers game and wouldn’t shut up the whole time.”

Jeff blinked at him. “Wait, for real?”

Kent nodded shortly. “Yeah,” he took a deep breath. “But if you don’t feel the same way, I’ll get out of here and we’ll never—”

“I do!” Jeff blurted out. “I do, I feel the same way, I have forever.”

“Oh thank God,” Kent breathed, and took a step forward. Jeff met him in the middle of the room and pulled him into his arms. This kiss was even better than the first. Jeff couldn’t stop smiling into the kiss, and Kent pulled away to pepper kisses across his cheeks and down the curve of his neck.

“So does this mean I didn’t have to take care of your demon cat to get you to kiss me?” Jeff murmured into Kent’s ear. Kent’s laugh was just about the best thing he’d ever heard, until he pulled him down the hall into his bedroom.   

**Author's Note:**

> Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://omgcpheartbreakfest.tumblr.com/) on the omgcpheartbreakfest tumblr page!


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